


A Crown of Blood and Thorns

by raspbirry_pancakes



Series: the melodies [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Demon Deceit, Inspired by "Ready As I'll Ever Be - Sanders Sides Animatic" - thepastelpeach, Knight Roman, Librarian Virgil, M/M, Magic, Physical Abuse, Prince Thomas - Freeform, Royal Advisor Logan, Sometimes instead of dialogue I just directly used the song lyrics, Violence, Yes Virgil is a librarian the quiet helps with his anxiety, change my mind, ready as I’ll ever be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-21 16:51:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18144866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raspbirry_pancakes/pseuds/raspbirry_pancakes
Summary: Based off thepastelpeach’s AU on the song “Ready As I’ll Ever Be”Roman had always dreamed of being a prince. Even as a kid, he recognized a sense of belonging in him when he read fairy tales, often picturing himself in the place of a knight or dazzling prince that married their true love. As he grew older, he all but forgot about his dream until he meets a mysterious man in the woods who promises to make all his dreams come true...____“...I’ll really be a prince?”“Your majesty, you will be king.”“Then I accept.”They shook hands.The deal was set.





	A Crown of Blood and Thorns

**Author's Note:**

  * For [I’m gifting this to myself because I’m a queen](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=I%E2%80%99m+gifting+this+to+myself+because+I%E2%80%99m+a+queen).



Roman had always dreamed of being a prince. Even as a kid, he recognized a sense of belonging in him when he read fairy tales, often picturing himself in the place of a knight or dazzling prince that married their true love. His dream of ruling a kingdom with a loving companion by his side and adoring subjects caring for him had always gotten him through the worst of his childhood, if you could even call it as much. Where other kids had laughed and played, Roman was isolated at home, taking the beatings his parents had cruelly subjected him to for no reason.

Roman’s family was poor, which was not unlike the other people in the kingdom, but his family was more so. His father worked as a chimney sweep, not that they were needed anymore. The poor kingdom they lived in didn’t allow for many people to afford to use their chimneys, even during the coldest of winter nights. And his mother worked as waitress at a nearby pub, dealing with drunks and irritable customers late into the night, sometimes not even returning until late well into the next morning. When she came back at night she was always frustrated and took it out on Roman, beating him until he was black and blue. It was easier when she returned in the morning, too exhausted to do more than make threatening remarks before passing out in her room. As bad as they both treated him, Roman always felt a small wisp of relief when they had both returned home unharmed. It was not unlike other townspeople to attack his parents, especially after his father’s bad habit of pickpocketing and scamming every gullible townsperson he ran into for a quick buck and his mother sometimes attempting to get a little extra cash by overcharging for drinks, which lead to his mother or father stumbling home a few times a month covered in odd cuts, bruises, and the occasional broken bone.

Roman never really fit in at school, the other kids despised him and always seemed to know just what to say to break him down. They’d insult Roman’s worn out and mud-stained clothes, make cutting remarks about his abusive parents, and how badly he smelled because he didn’t bathe. Not that he really had any chance to, his parents insisting that him bathing would only be a waste of water and of their “good and hard-earned cash,” yet bathing never costed much. It was hardly a dollar, not that the price actually mattered to them. They just knew forbidding him to get clean would make him more miserable and they happily took that chance. Luckily, Roman was able to find a small stream that was close enough to his house where he could clean himself up whenever he finally had the rare chance to sneak away.

Even on the few days Roman was able to wash up and go to school clean and in a better mood, the other kids would persist with their relentless teasing. Every morning when he appeared at school, they’d begin to chant:

“Roman is a baby,  
He is slow and crazy,  
Always covered in mud,  
Can’t afford more than old duds,  
Would hurt you if he wasn’t so lazy.”

Or everyone’s seemingly favorite: “Roman Kingsley, prince of mud and dung,” “affectionately” shortened to “Mudboy,” which was a jab towards Roman’s job of cleaning out the filthy stables of barns.

Roman never reacted at first to what they said, figuring they’d wear themselves out and find someone new to mock. But as days turned into weeks, then months, and then _years_ of the constant song and persistent insults being belted out whenever someone recognized him, Roman finally snapped.

“Enough! I have done _nothing_ to _any_ of you! What is your problem with me?”

 _“‘Nothing?’”_ one of the boys repeated angrily.

The children surrounding Roman stopped singing as the boy took a step closer to him, his face getting red with anger as he pointed a finger at him accusingly.

“Your father stole money from my family! We went without food for a week!”

Roman felt a ball of shame form in his stomach at the mention of his father’s antics. He felt his stance waver as another kid spoke up from behind him.

“Your mom overcharged my father’s drinks! Mother nearly fainted when she saw the tab!”

“I’m sorry that she did that-” Roman tried to apologize.

“Your parents are insane, Mudboy! Your mom broke into my chicken coop and killed a few of them from fright!”

“I really am sorry about that-”

“Your mom let all the horses out of the stables at my Pa’s work! He lost his job for that!”

With every new accusation, the kids stepped closer, entrapping Roman in a circle until he was surrounded by angry peers. He began to feel his breath grow heavy and heartbeat race as the kids reached forward and started to hit him as they yelled out what his parents had done.

“Killed my family’s pig!” A punch to the jaw.

“Steals from my cousin’s shop!” A kick to the shin.

“Lit my uncle’s barn on fire!” A punch to the stomach.

“Stole my brother’s cow!” A final shove against his back sent Roman spiraling to the ground.

They crowded over him, punching, kicking, pinching, and pulling every surface of his skin they could reach. Roman cried out as he felt them press against his bruises given by his parents, making them grow darker and more painful.

“You’re weak, just like your father! He couldn’t do any good, just look at his kid!”

“I bet you’ll grow to be just like them! You should just leave to save us all the trouble!”

“You’ll beat your kids too, won’t you? Like father, like son!”

Roman felt his eyes prick with tears at that one, “I’m not like him!”

_'No. Never. I’d love them in the way my parents never loved me.'_

“Freak!”

“Thief!”

“Liar!”

The kids continued to beat him as Roman curled himself into a tight ball, holding his arms protectively around his head as his back took the worst of the beatings. After a while the assault slowed to an eventual halt as the crowd dissipated when the sun began to set. Even after it stopped, Roman remained still for several minutes, trying to steady his breathing and stop the tears from falling down his face. It was well into dusk when Roman finally managed to limp home, his father beating him once more for being late and not starting on chores. Roman just grit his teeth and took the beating without complaint. He knew if he even made a sound, his father would continue on harder and with more enthusiasm.

That night, Roman lied in bed thinking of that day’s event, wincing as his lumpy mattress seemingly poked and prodded at the newer and more sensitive bruises.

_“I bet you’ll grow to be just like them! You should just leave to save us all the trouble!”_

The words echoed loudly in his mind, rattling around his core until late the next morning. Roman waited an hour after he heard his mother return from work and his father head to his own job to start packing his bag and headed out without a second thought.

…

Roman didn’t have a clue to where he was going, he just knew he needed to leave. It was still the early hours of the morning, late enough for a few of the townspeople to open their shops and start heading to work, but early enough for most kids and his classmates to still be at home in bed. Not that Roman was complaining. Less people around meant less attention, and while he did have a secret passion for attention and drama, the attention the townspeople tended to give wasn’t the kind he sought after. Even just walking by, several shop owners gave him a nasty look, no doubt previous customers or victims of his parents. Roman kept his head low, ignoring at the few people who gave him and his bag lingering looks of interest before quickly turning away and resuming their usual daily tasks.

Roman soon reached the deserted outskirts of town and kept walking, heading into the enchanted woods that were strictly forbidden on account of the amount of disappearances and strange occurrences that took place there. Tales of nefarious witches and evil enchantresses often emanated from the forest, making it infamous and raising all sorts of myths and legends. Roman wasn’t scared by the stories, but instead much rather intrigued by the witchcraft and mayhem, another thing for the other students to make fun of him for.

The path Roman took was just a dirt road surrounded by tall trees on every side, a surprisingly fair amount of sunlight spilling onto the path and the bushes of wild flowers appearing to make the entire forest glow. Roman felt unusually at peace for the first time in his entire sixteen years of life, no longer continuing his trip through the woods at a fast pace, but now rather like a casual stroll as if he no longer had a purpose to his walk and was just here to kill some time.

Roman continued walking for a bit until he heard a scream and a cry for help. He turned towards the noise and quickly ran off the path to find the source. As minutes passed, Roman began to feel like a fool as he continued running where he thought he heard the sound come from. It was no secret to anyone in his kingdom that dark creatures created fake sounds of distress in order to lure kind-hearted people to their doom. Even so, Roman couldn’t explain how he just knew that the sound wasn’t fake, and continued trekking forward. He soon froze as he came across a man clad in silver and freshly polished armor who was set in a defensive stance despite the poorly concealed pain and fear on his face. A witch with jet black eyes and scales covering most of her exposed pale green skin held him at wandpoint. She was clothed in a dark purple cloak that loosely covered her arms and legs, but was cut to allow two scaly, dark green wings to go pass through. Still frozen with fear, Roman’s jaw nearly dropped once he realized the bottom of the cloak was moving to reveal a long, pointy tail.

_‘Oh god, she’s some sort of Dragon-Witch.’_

“Return what you have stolen and the pain will lessen,” the witch said in a raspy voice.

Roman felt like buckets of ice water had been poured down his back as she spoke. All hair had stood on end and all nerves felt like he had been painfully electrocuted.

“I… can’t,” the man managed out, clenching his jaw in pain as sweat trickled down his hairline, “my mother… she’ll die without it.”

“Then there are arrangements to be made,” she responded coldly.

At that, Roman finally snapped out of his stupor and began to look for any means to distract or disarm her.

The man’s face screwed up with rage as he glared at the witch in front of him, all signs of pain quickly diminished, “You vile, insignificant heathen! You’ll rot in hell for that!”

The witch’s eyes narrowed and she loomed over the man who let out another cry of pain and trembled on his feet, barely managing to stand upright.

“Someone will have to teach you some manners, boy. I’ll be damned if I allow you to talk to a lady that way.”

The witch began to move her wand and started to mutter under her breath, leaving Roman no time to think of a plan. He quickly ran up to the pair and tackled the Dragon-Witch from the side, bringing her down to the ground with him.

“Get off me at once!” she growled in a low voice.

Roman ignored her and scrambled to reach for her wand which was held fast in her iron-like grip. He tugged at the wand, as he fought off her other hand that kept punching and pulling at him, irritating his bruises. He kicked back gracelessly and mercilessly (even if she was a lady), until he felt something tightly curling around his waist and then sliding up to his neck. Roman looked down as he began to choke and noticed it was the witch’s tail that was constricting him. He squirmed and struggled in her grip, only making her laugh. He began to see black spots in the corners of his vision, and in a panic, did the first thing he could think of. Roman twisted his hand that gripped the wand and with a quick snap, the wand was broken in half. The Dragon-Witch let out a shriek and quickly recoiled from Roman, clutching her broken wand to her chest like she was in physical pain. She shoved Roman away and with a flap of her wings, quickly darted into the darker part of the forest.

Roman sucked in air and started coughing as he took in shaky breaths. He quickly remembered the purpose for his epic fight with the Dragon-Witch and turned to see the man kneeling on the grass, a hand over his heart as he breathed in heavily.

“You okay?” Roman croaked out, internally cringing at his voice.

The man nodded, still taking in breaths heavily, “I’m gonna… need… a minute.”

After several more minutes of breathing and calming down their heart rates, both boys were able to stand.

“I’m Roman Kingsley,” Roman introduced himself.

“Thomas Sanders,” the man nodded.

“Forgive me for asking, but what did you take from the witch?”

Thomas looked irritated as he remembered the witch and pulled out a single pink and yellow flower inside a glass vial.

“The flower has magic healing powers and is supposed to cure whatever ails the user. My mother has been sick for many months and I worry for her. The Dragon-Witch has been known to carry odd potions and poisons so I asked her for it but she refused, so I took it from her.”

“I understand. I might even do the same if in your place,” Roman said, thinking that if he had more caring parents, he certainly would’ve done it as well without a second thought.

Thomas smiled at that, making Roman feel a little giddy inside, never have been the cause of someone else’s smile.

“Speaking of my mother, I need to head back to the kingdom before she worries, is this where we go separate ways?”

Roman shrugged, beginning to lead Thomas back to the path, “It doesn’t have to be. I was just leaving my old home and I don’t have anywhere to go yet.”

“Why did you leave?”

Roman walked silently back onto the dirt path from before, Thomas joining his side, patiently waiting for an answer.

“I didn’t fit in there that well.”

Thomas just nodded, and Roman pretended he didn’t see him taking in the sight of his limp and bruises with knowing eyes.

“I see. Until you find a new place to stay in the kingdom, I would be honored to have you stay with me.”

Roman just blinked and turned to stare at Thomas who looked back, smiling.

“I don’t want to intrude.”

“No, not at all. It would be the least I could do for the brave knight who saved my life.”

Roman began to laugh at that, making Thomas stare at him quizzically.

“What’s so funny?”

“I’m not a knight, Thomas. I just happened to be there at the right time.”

“Perhaps. But not everyone would’ve been brave enough to challenge a Dragon-Witch without any weapons, or manage to defeat one.”

“All I did was break her wand, then she disappeared on her own.”

“Roman, a witch’s wand is a simple tree branch that’s filled with magic harvested from the witch when they are born. They have their wands with them their entire lives, and as they grow and change, their wand changes with them. A wand to a witch is as much of them as an arm is to a human. Put simply, to break a wand is to break and put to rest a very sacred and deep part of them. By breaking the Dragon-Witch’s wand, you disarmed her and saved hundreds of lives in the future.”

“Oh,” said Roman, intelligently.

“Still believe that you wouldn’t make a good knight?” Thomas nudged Roman’s shoulder with his own.

“You’re starting to convince me,” Roman nudged Thomas’s shoulder back, making him laugh.

“Thomas Sanders! You dare leave home again?” a new voice called out angrily.

“Oh great,” Thomas muttered as both of them turned to see a short and red-faced man stalking towards them. His face was twisted in an angry scowl, his fiery red hair and mustache making the man seem almost comedic if not for the sword he was gripping tightly in his hand.

“You know you are not permitted to leave the castle unless accompanied by a guard! If something were to happen the Queen would have my head for it!”

_‘Castle? Guard? Queen? What was going on?’_

Beside Roman, Thomas let out a sigh as the man caught up to them, “Roman, meet Cecilius Luther, captain of the royal guard.”

“Royal guard?” Roman echoed, beginning to fit the pieces together, “so you’re a-”

“A prince,” Thomas nodded bleakly.

“Enough talk, child. The queen was ready to set out all her troops in order to find you, your majesty. Going into the enchanted woods alone? What were you thinking? You could’ve been hurt!” Cecilius kept a quick pace as he led them through the forest. Thomas sped up to catch his speed and began to bicker with him.

“But I wasn’t! I don’t need your protection! I’m not a kid anymore, I can handle things myself!”

Cecilius let out a huff, “Listen **kid** ,” Thomas’s gaze visibly darkened, “they aren’t my rules to follow. But if you promise not to pull this sort of stunt again, I’ll work something out to allow you to only be accompanied by one guard or knight of your choice.”

Thomas’s anger seemed to soften a bit as he thought in silence, making Roman wonder how many guards usually surrounded him when he went out.

“Thank you, Cecilius. I would appreciate that,” Thomas finally spoke up after a few moments, “I would like my only guard to be Roman.”

Roman felt himself freeze in place as Cecilius stopped walking and turned to Thomas.

“Who?”

Thomas gestured behind him to Roman who was sweating bullets under the captain’s scrutinizing stare. By the look on his face, it was easy to tell he hadn’t realized Roman was there at all.

“Roman,” he repeated, as if testing the name, only making him feel more anxious.

“Roman Kingsley, sir,” he nodded nervously.

The silence lasted a few moments before Thomas spoke up.

“He has more than proved his worth and I would trust him with my life.”

Cecilius’s gaze flickered between the two of them before he gave a slight nod, “Very well then. If he is to be a knight, training must begin immediately.”

Roman swallowed hard and nodded. Seemingly satisfied, Cecilius turned around and resumed his fast pace as Thomas and Roman walked behind him at a slightly slower speed.

“Thomas, why didn’t you tell me you’re a prince?” Roman asked after a minute of tense silence.

Thomas avoided his gaze, “I’m sure I mentioned it earlier. You must not have heard me.”

_“Thomas.”_

The prince sighed quietly before finally looking at Roman, an unreadable expression on his face.

“It’s just… I wanted to be a normal for once in my life. Everyone already knows me in the kingdom and they never hesitate to offer me anything they have or pretend to like me only because I’m royalty. I’m not ungrateful for what I have, but I just wish people could overlook my heritage. I love my family, but sometimes it’s nice not to…”

“Live in their shadow?” Roman finished with a knowing tone, thinking of his own parents.

Thomas chuckled quietly and smiled sincerely, “Yeah, exactly.”

Thomas nudged his elbow into Roman’s side after another moment, “So will you do me the honor of becoming my own personal knight?”

Just then, the boys had reached the edge of the new kingdom. It was nearly dusk, the final rays of sunlight catching onto the bricks around the center of the town and speckling the roofs of cottages pink, purple, gold, and orange, giving it an otherworld-like appearance. People rushed around the town, closing up their shops and heading home to their families. Just by looking at it, Roman could tell he would enjoy living there significantly more than at his hometown. The streets were cleaner, shops were bigger, and most importantly, not a single person there knew him or his parents. It was a fresh start for Roman, making him grin without even realizing it.

“I accept.”

…

Over the next few years, Roman faced rigorous and exhausting training daily on his quest to become a knight and soon grew to be one of the most well-respected and sought-after men in the entire kingdom. He had been treated like a child at first by the other knights, who had believed he was only there due to his close connection with Thomas. Roman was quick to prove them wrong by showing them his true value and bravery with each completed task and managed to move up ranks faster than anyone else ever had before.

In time, Roman had also grown to be part of Thomas’s very few close group of friends. From there, he met Patton Bradley, a passionate baker from down in the more well-populated part of the village; Logan Axton, the cold, yet calculating royal advisor for the Sanders; and finally, Virgil Oakley, the adorable and sarcastic librarian at the Twisted Oak Library who managed to capture Roman’s heart. With each passing day, Roman grew more and more thankful to have them in his life, each one of them managing to break down his hard shell created after years of abuse and fully accept him for who he was. He couldn’t possibly ask for more. But sometimes when he lied awake at night, the hours stretching into the wee bits of the morning, Roman couldn’t help but secretly admit to himself that he too, would like a kingdom just like Thomas’s. The dream he had possessed once as a child still remained heavy in his mind even after all these years, making Roman feel foolish and loathe that part of himself. By morning he would be filled with guilt and carefully avoid Thomas’s gaze, the heavy pit of shame in Roman’s stomach preventing him from staring one of his closest friends in the eye after he had so enviously wished he could have what Thomas has.

One day, Roman received an order for a quest into the enchanted woods. More suspicious activity had been sighted there, including the disappearance of a few of the townspeople from the neighboring kingdom with the rumor of an evil gorgon roaming about. As one of the highest people in command, Roman was one of the few recommended for the task and eagerly accepted. He quickly packed his things for the quest, looking around his room in the castle for any other essentials. Despite Roman saving Thomas’s life over a decade ago and him no longer needing a guard’s constant watch, Thomas still insisted he live at the castle with him and his mother.

With a heavy sigh, Roman glanced around the room fondly one last time before tugging his signature red sash over his head, a present given to him by Virgil many years ago, and began to look for Thomas to say goodbye before he left.

He found Thomas sitting at a desk, half a dozen scrolls laying open in front of him as he scribbled something down on a separate piece of parchment, giving the framed painting of his mother a glance every now and then. Logan sat nearby, mimicking Thomas’s action with nine scrolls instead of six, already reaching for a new pot of ink to continue his sentence when Roman knocked on the doorway.

“I’m about to head out on a new quest. I’ll be back in a couple of days,” Roman said.

Thomas perked up when he heard ‘quest’, and stood up suddenly, “A quest? Can I come?”

Logan cleared his throat, making Thomas and Roman look over at him, “Thomas, you do not have time for any quests. It is imperative that the treaty is completed and signed as soon as possible to avoid further attacks across the southeastern border of our neighboring kingdom. We promised to ensure their safety and must continue to do so if we want to keep the alliance.”

Thomas let out a sigh before looking at the stack of parchments on his desk, “Yes, I suppose we did.”

Still, Thomas smiled a little and pulled Roman into a tight hug, “Just remember to be safe.”

He nodded and Logan made his way across the room to squeeze his shoulder supportively, “I expect to see you back soon, unharmed.”

Roman nodded once more and waved as he left the room, allowing them to return to their work.

Roman felt a little sad as he left the castle, remembering the dejected look on Thomas’s face when he couldn’t come. Thomas was now the sole ruler of the kingdom, as his mother died a few years back. Despite the power of the magic flower healing her, Adeline Sanders had been weakened immensely by the illness, only giving her a few years left before she died. Roman was rather fond of her, she had allowed him to stay with her and Thomas, no questions asked, and treated him like a second son. Thomas had been crushed when she died, but with he and the others supporting him, Thomas had managed to get back on track and start to successfully rule the kingdom.

Roman took his horse from the stables, a black and white stallion named Sirius, and headed out to the enchanted woods, only stopping to inform Patton and Virgil of his new quest. Patton had given him a tearful goodbye as usual, even when Roman tried to assure him that he’d be okay and be back in a few days. Even so, Patton had hugged him and cried before offering him a few of his favorite baked goods to take with him that Roman couldn’t possibly refuse.

Virgil had mumbled a quiet, “Try _not_ to die this time,” a reference to one of Roman’s previous and more dangerous missions that kept him bedridden for nearly two months.

“A valorous knight such as myself would be impossible to defeat.”

Virgil had scoffed at that but let Roman pull him into a hug anyway.

“I’ll be back in a few days, so don’t miss me too much.”

“Believe me, I _won’t_.”

“Ouch, I’m feeling pretty wounded over here, Mr. Dark and Gloomy.”

“Suffer.”

Roman just laughed and waved as he left the library, hopping back onto his horse and heading deep into the enchanted woods.

…

Roman had been walking down the path for several hours now, keeping a vigilant eye out for any sort of trouble. He had managed to defeat the gorgon hours earlier by tricking her to look into the reflective mirror Roman kept in his pocket. The gorgon had turned herself to stone almost immediately, the snakes in her hair allowing out one final angry hiss and her hand desperately reaching out for the sky before she was frozen in place forever. The gorgon’s stone victims reanimated soon after, and Roman managed to lead them back to their village with only minor incidents. Unfortunately, the way to the other kingdom had lead Roman deep into the forest where he soon got lost. Despite the many journeys he had taken that had led into the enchanted woods, he had never gone this far before, making Roman frustrated as he looked around at the unfamiliar woods.

Growing restless and irritated, Roman slid off his horse and tied his reins to a tree branch while he leaned against a tree and pulled out one of the pastries he’d gotten from Patton earlier that day. It was a simple cinnamon and cherry tart that he ate enthusiastically, it being one of his top favorites after all. Roman suddenly felt a shooting pain strike through his temple and winced as he clutched his head. It happened once more, making Roman let out a low grunt. The pain suddenly disappeared as quickly as it came, Roman leaning his head back up after a moment to make sure the pain wouldn’t return before taking a cautious nibble of his tart. He looked around the forest carefully, nothing appeared to be out of place. Roman shrugged it off as simple paranoia and began to reach for another tart when a man appeared in front of him with a small pop. Roman let out a cry of surprise and jumped back, quickly pulling his katana out of its sheath at his side and stood in a defensive stance.

“Why hello there,” the man said, twisting his face into some poor semblance of a kind smile.

Yellow scales crept up the left side of his face, their paleness a harsh contrast to the red scar wrapping around the underside of one of his golden eyes. A thick black cloak hung from his shoulders that traveled to his mid-thigh, matching his dark pants and boots.

“Who are you?” Roman asked sharply, raising his sword towards him.

The man’s gaze flickered disinterestedly at the pointed sword, “And here I thought royalty would have a more prestigious weapon than a rusty old sword.”

Roman’s eyes narrowed despite his confusion towards the man’s words. What did he mean by ‘royalty’?

“Who are you?”

“Oh, where are my manners? My apologies, sire,” the man twisted his hand and a black bowler hat appeared in his grip. He held it to his chest as he bowed, “I am Damien Inganno.”

“Damien Inganno?”

“The one and only, your majesty,” Damien grinned dangerously through half-lidded eyes as he peered up at Roman, still bowing.

“I am no king,” Roman said, a bitter taste crawling through his mouth at his admittance.

“I see. Forgive my accusations at you, sir,” he stood properly, nearly towering over Roman, and flipped his hat that spun and landed miraculously on top of his head, “but I believe you would make a fine king.”

“Is that so?”

“Indeed.”

“What evidence do you have to make that statement?”

Roman raised one eyebrow disbelievingly at Damien, raising his sword a fraction of an inch. Damien’s eyes flickered mischievously as he smirked and snapped his fingers, making Roman’s sword disappear from his hand and reappear in his sheath. Roman’s eyes widened at the sight of the unfamiliar magic, surprised and slightly annoyed that he used magic on him, even if it was just to move his sword.

“I know all. From each flower’s first bloom,” a twist of his hand revealed a delicate stem covered in purple lobelia blossoms, “to every lie ever told,” the flowers were suddenly aflame. “There is no secret I do not know and no truth yet to be revealed.”

Roman watched with curiosity as Damien covered the flowers with his hand, pushing them down into his fist, unbothered by the flames, and suddenly fanned his hands out, revealing his empty palms.

“And you, Roman, are destined to be king.”

As intrigued as he was, Roman heard a small voice in the back of his head that sounded suspiciously like Logan telling him to leave.

Roman let out a scoff, “No, I’m not.”

He turned on his heel and made to walk away from Damien, stopping suddenly as he appeared once more in front of him. Roman noticed he seemed taller and looked down to realize Damien was levitating.

“Oh, but you are. And if you so desired, I will help you achieve your dream.”

“And how do you benefit from this?”

Damien smirked once more, crossing his legs in mid-air, seeming as though he was perched on an invisible chair, making him look almost comedic.

“My only goal is to live in a kingdom with a proper king _worthy_ of ruling.”

Roman felt a swell of irritation and anger inside him at the negative implication at Thomas.

“Thomas is-”

“Thomas is a _good_ king, but he doesn’t understand his subjects like you do. He’s only ever known the parts of his people that they’ve allowed him to see, not what’s really happening beneath the surface.”

“What do you mean?”

“Poverty, crimes, and other things happening in the kingdom right under Thomas’s nose. He doesn’t have a clue about any of it. But you…” Damien drifted off as he tilted his head slightly to the side, examining Roman, “you have really seen it all, haven’t you?”

Roman felt like squirming under his probing gaze but remained still. At his silence, Damien drummed his gloved fingers against his thigh as he continued to stare thoughtfully at Roman.

“And who better to rule a kingdom than someone who has truly experienced both sides of the spectrum? Once as a low peasant and now as a valorous knight.”

Roman grit his teeth as he felt more irritation roll through him.

“Despite what you think, Damien, I’m satisfied with my life, and I don’t want to be king, not if I must receive the title dishonestly.”

“I suppose you’re right. Why try to be a mighty prince when you could settle for life as a knight?” Damien asked in a careless tone.

Roman ignored him as he stalked off.

“Though I must admit, I never expected you to prove those kids right.”

Roman stopped in his tracks and turned back to Damien to see him stretched out mid-air, his legs crossed lazily as his crossed arms served as a pillow for his head.

“What are you talking about?”

Damien opened one eye and smirked, showing off his pearly white fangs, “The kids you went to school with, of course. They always said you’d never amount to anything, remember? Just like your father.”

“How did you-”

“I know all. What has been done, what is being done, and what will be done,” he grinned.

“And how will this end?” Roman asked, apprehensively.

Damien just shrugged, “There are numerable outcomes for today’s events. All I have to do is steer you towards the right one… that is, if you choose to accept my offer.”

“I’m unsure-”

“I understand. But know that this offer has a time limit, and it’s coming to a close soon. Just imagine it with me for a moment, will you?” Damien straightened up and with a wave of his hand he and Roman were encased inside an illusion of a simple village.

“You’re the ruler of your very own kingdom, finally respected and adored by all,” with another wave, a lifelike version of Roman appeared in the center of the village, a golden crown perched atop his head catching the sunlight as he nodded towards the excited villagers who bowed to him and gazed at him with loving and adoring looks. Roman felt a bit of longing take a harsh grip on his heart as he watched women curtsying and men cheering towards the prince, some even grabbing hold of his hands and squeezing them tightly as tearful “thank you”s and heartfelt words were exchanged between them.

“You rule fairly with an equal knowledge of both nobles and peasants, becoming one of the greatest kings to ever rule,” the illusion changed to Roman sitting in his throne talking animatedly to a man who hurriedly scribbled down notes as another man carefully painted Roman’s portrait. The artist made a comment that sent both the prince and the writer into peals of laughter, making the painter puff up with pride as he continued his work. “Your legacy will become known and taught for generations to come.”

“But what about my friends?” What happens to Thomas and the others?” Roman inquired, noticing the absence of his friends by his side.

The illusion changed once more to reveal Thomas sitting at a table in the dining hall with Logan across from him as they talked, only stopping once Patton arrived, balancing three plates of food in his arms. “Thomas will continue his work as prince in his own kingdom, with Logan as his advisor and Patton as his chef.”

“But I thought Patton wanted to stay working in the bakery with his family.”

“He did, but he later found an appreciation for _more_ than just pastries,” Damien winked, making him turn curiously back to the scene at play.

Roman watched, transfixed, as Patton placed down a plate in front of the two of them, dropping the final plate next to Logan’s. Logan pulled out a chair for him, and Patton smiled and slid down next to him, pecking a quick kiss to his cheek, making Logan’s face flush. Roman felt his eyebrows raise a little in surprise and his mouth form a silent “Oh.” Thomas only smiled at the couple and made a comment that had both Patton and Logan look away, faces reddening as Thomas laughed.

Roman smiled to himself as he watched the exchange but noticed someone was missing, “Where’s Virgil?”

Damien grinned at him, showing off his fangs and waved his hand, forming a new illusion, “I think you’ll like this part.”

Confused, Roman watched as he saw himself pacing the floor of a bedroom late at night. His crown was off to the side, sitting on top of a wooden dresser and he appeared to be in more casual clothes than the ones he wore when visiting the village. The door to his room suddenly burst open causing illusion-Roman to stop in his tracks. Virgil ran into the room and suddenly tackled the prince around his middle, hugging him tightly as he buried his face in the other’s neck. After a few minutes, Virgil pulled himself back and Roman could just make out the words “I missed you,” falling from his lips before Virgil leaned forward and kissed the prince.

Roman’s breath caught in his throat as his heart skipped a beat, _“That’s_ my future?”

Damien nodded, “Every king needs a queen, and Virgil was more than happy to apply.”

Roman watched as his illusioned self held Virgil tightly to his chest and whispered quiet words to him, the two exchanging soft kisses every few moments.

Roman’s brow narrowed in thought as a question curled up from the depths of his mind.

“Wait, does this mean Virgil will only love me as a prince?”

Damien turned to look at Roman, taking a moment to think before answering, “I believe Virgil _could_ love you as you are, but do you really think he’d be satisfied with someone who’s only a knight?”

Roman was quiet for a moment as he pondered this, and stepped towards the illusion of him and Virgil now holding hands and gazing into each other’s eyes as they talked. He extended a hand, the tips of his fingers brushing against Virgil. The illusion rippled like a stone dropped in a still pond against his touch, and the two of them disappeared in a puff of black smoke.

“But who’s to say what will happen if you decline my offer?” Damien said, nonchalantly.

A new illusion began to form from the smoke, Virgil smiling happily with his arm linked with Thomas’s as the two of them walked to a shady tree on top of a grassy knoll.

Roman was confused at the illusion and flicked his gaze over to Damien who smirked and gave a small nod to the illusion, indicating for him to keep watching.

Thomas and Virgil stood beneath the tree, leaning against the trunk and making idle conversation until Thomas suddenly dropped down to one knee and pulled a small box out of his pocket.

“No.”

“Yes.”

Roman could only watch in horror as Virgil nodded tearfully and Thomas grinned and twirled him in his arms before pulling him into a kiss.

Roman quickly looked away and glared at Damien, tears beginning to burn in his eyes.

“T-Thomas.. H-he wouldn’t… Virgil wo-would never- They wouldn’t do that!”

“Wouldn’t they?” Damien raised a brow questionably as his tone feigned innocence.

Roman looked at the illusion once more as Virgil embraced Thomas, holding him tightly as tears of joy rolled down his face.

“I…” he trailed off, looking at the illusion with a painful ache in his heart.

“I wouldn’t take it too personally, Roman. Thomas was just born with better blood and more to offer.”

Roman felt a surge of irritation run through him at Damien.

“Now wait a minute-”

“Oh here’s the best part!”

With another wave of his hand, another illusion began to rise from the smoke and Roman gasped as the illusion encased them both in darkness. Roman’s eyes adjusted quickly to the dim illusion and he could make out the forms of several small cottages and a schoolhouse. The scene began to grow lighter until everything was covered with hazy sunlight and with a start, Roman realized he was back in his hometown.

“Why are we here?”

Damien ignored the question and kept his eyes trained ahead and he began to walk slowly towards the direction of the old schoolhouse. Roman easily caught up to him and matched his pace. After a few moments, he finally spoke.

“People can be so cruel sometimes, can’t they?” Damien’s voice had taken on a wistful, more knowing lilt to it, his hooded expression making Roman feel a bit of unease.

Slightly puzzled by the sudden question and Damien’s quick change of tone, Roman just nodded and waited for him to continue.

“You deserved much more than you ever received here, Roman. Your parents beat you, the townspeople hated you, and your classmates mocked you at every turn- and you never did a thing to any of them, did you?”

“No, I didn’t,” he admitted quietly.

It felt strange to discuss this out loud for once, especially with someone who knew exactly what had happened. As close as he and Thomas were, Roman had only vaguely described his life in the previous kingdom, still too closed off to reveal many details.

He suddenly heard a cry coming from the edge of the schoolyard, just behind the building. Roman filled with alarm and turned to Damien who just looked ahead nonchalantly.

“What was that?”

“Go ahead and look. It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

Slightly perplexed but growing used to Damien’s vague comments, Roman sprinted the rest of the way to the school, turned the corner, and stopped as he saw the all-too familiar scene. This time it wasn’t an illusion, it was a memory. Roman watched, horrified, as a younger him was surrounded by classmates and began to get yelled at. With a small pop, Damien appeared beside him, tilting his head to the side as he observed.

“The other children really were the worst of it, weren’t they? They knew what words would break you down, which phrases would make you tick- and they exploited it every chance they were given.”

Roman felt a flush of anger creep up his spine as he remembered the hours he’d spent crying silently in his bed after days of brutal insults and vicious threats. School was supposed to be an escape from the abuse he endured each day, not another cut to a fatal wound.

The kids continued to yell, and Roman winced as the other him was shoved to the ground, phantom pains running lightly over his body as he was beaten. Next to him, Damien continued speaking.

“What was it they had called you again? _‘Mudboy’_ , was it not? They never knew what you could do- never knew the _power_ you could achieve.” Damien’s voice had lowered to a whisper, yet it sounded like the man was directly hissing in his ears, the words echoing in his brain, “And wouldn’t it feel great to prove them all wrong?”

Roman remained silent as he stared on at the mass of children attacking his younger self.

_“You’re weak, just like your father! He couldn’t do any good, just look at his kid!”_

Roman gripped the side of his arm as he felt tears pool in his eyes. Years had passed since this day and his memory had grown fainter, but the cut of their words never ceased their stinging.

_“You’ll beat your kids too, won’t you? Like father, like son!”_

_“I’m not like him!”_ younger Roman cried out as he was kicked roughly in the back.

Roman shut his eyes to stop the tears from falling but found he struggled to do so with each familiar insult.

_“Freak!”_

_“Thief!”_

_“Liar!”_

He fell to his knees and gripped the sleeves of his knight uniform as the tears freely spilled from his eyes. Heavy sobs he kept contained for years wracked his body, making him shake violently. Roman wasn’t sure how long he knelt there and cried, but when he finally collected himself and stood up, his younger self was alone, lying on the grass as he struggled to catch his breath.

Roman watched as he managed to stand up shakily and slowly made his way home. He was only vaguely aware of Damien standing beside him until he spoke.

“Remember Roman, should you accept my offer, you can have your own kingdom, your own subjects, the man you always wanted… and best of all- you can finally prove to everyone that you were right.”

With a wave of Damien’s hand, both of them stood in the enchanted forest, the brilliant moonlight their only source of light.

Roman’s eyes narrowed in thought as he stared down at the dirt path, reviewing everything he had just seen.

After a moment he spoke, “...I’ll really be a prince?”

Damien let out a slight laugh at that, “Your majesty, you will be _king_.”

Roman gave a small nod and said quietly, “Then I accept.”

Damien grinned and held out his hand which the other shook hesitantly. Damien then twisted his hand and laid his palm out flatly. A single seed lied directly in the center of Damien’s palm and Roman blinked at it, bewildered. The seed opened and a frail stem began to grow from it. Amazed, Roman watched as the stem grew into a beautiful red rose right before his eyes. Damien then handed the rose to him and his grin seemed to grow a little wider.

“The rose can multiply. Give one to every kind soul you meet, as every king needs loyal followers.”

Roman looked at the flower cautiously and stroked one of its vibrant petals as he focused his gaze back up, “Wait, what does that-”

Damien was gone, the only remainder of the magic man was the rose Roman grasped tightly in his hand, its thorns digging into his gloves. He cast a look around the dark forest, expecting to see the enchanter nearby but instead finding a path Roman was certain hadn’t been there before. It was lined with bushes of Thorn-Apples and Hydrangeas, both types of flowers Roman hadn’t known grew this deep in the forest. He made a mental note to question Logan about it later, seeing as he knew all sorts of odd facts, and began to make his way down the path on his horse after collecting his things.

A few hours later, Roman had made it back into town by daybreak, several people already awake and opening their shops. As he thought about Damien’s words, Roman stopped to greet a few of the townspeople and offered them the rose, a new one appearing in his satchel each time he gave it away.

He stopped by Patton’s bakery on his way back to the castle and left him the rose on the counter since he was covered up to his elbows in dough. Roman then decided to stop by Virgil’s library to offer him one. He found Virgil and Thomas together in the front of the library. Virgil was sitting in his favorite chair reading while Thomas stood directly behind him, his arms crossed on the back of the chair as he leaned over Virgil’s shoulder to read with him.

Roman felt a small flare of jealousy as he remembered Damien’s illusion.

 _'They’re much happier without you,'_ a voice hissed.

Roman shook his head in confusion at the unusual accusation and quickly pushed the thought to the back of his mind. Ignoring the sting in his chest, he faked a smile and false enthusiasm, “A valiant knight such as myself finally returns from a quest and I don’t even get a ‘hello’?”

At the sound of his voice, Thomas’s and Virgil’s heads snapped up from the book. Thomas grinned and pulled Roman into a hug as Virgil watched from the chair, a small smile on his face.

“We didn’t hear you come in,” Thomas said, squeezing him tightly.

“It’s good to see you’re still in one piece,” Virgil said, standing up from his chair and allowing Roman to pull him into a soft hug.

Roman could feel his face heat as Virgil melted into the hug a little, seeming like he was genuinely relieved to have him back safely.

“How did you defeat the gorgon?” Thomas asked as Roman released Virgil from the hug.

“I made it look into a mirror and it turned itself to stone,” Roman explained, absentmindedly pulling his small compact mirror out of his pocket, tapping its side.

“Who would’ve guessed that being a narcissist would eventually save your life?” Virgil said with a hint of amusement, making Thomas laugh.

Roman let out an indignant huff, “I am _not_ narcissistic, I just know a fine man when I see one, a skill both of you _clearly_ don’t possess!”

Thomas snorted, “One of us does.”

He smirked at Virgil who only sent him a sharp glare back and raised his eyebrow dangerously. Roman was puzzled as they stared at each other for nearly a minute until Thomas blinked and Virgil let out a satisfied hum as they both turned back to Roman. No one said a word as he shifted his gaze slowly from Thomas to Virgil, wordlessly attempting to pull an explanation from one of the two. Seeing as they didn’t offer anything and he was unsure how to restart the conversation, Roman decided to start with something safe.

“Where’s Logan?”

“He was here earlier but returned to the castle to rest. He’s been working late for the last few nights,” Thomas explained, almost guiltily.

Roman nodded and offered a smile, “I believe I’ll do the same, but before I forget…”

He reached into his satchel and pulled out the rose, handing it to Thomas who took it happily, his gloved hands protecting him from the thorns. Roman pulled a second identical rose out and held it out to Virgil. Virgil stared at it for a moment before tugging his sleeve over his hand before gingerly taking it from him with a quiet “Thank you” as his gaze shifted to the floor. Roman could only smile at his response, watching as the younger man gently stroked the brightly hued petals.

“I need to head home and put Sirius back in the stables, when will you return to the castle?” Roman asked.

“I’ll return in a few hours. Virgil found a book of old fables!” Thomas said excitedly, picking up the book he and Virgil were reading earlier and holding it out to him.

Roman only smiled and nudged the book back to him, “I expect to see you soon then. Bye for now.”

Thomas waved as he left, Virgil only offering a small “Bye,” as he continued petting the flower, eyes still avoiding Roman’s gaze.

As Roman rode his horse back to the castle, he stopped several more times to offer people the rose, each person happily accepting and a few unfortunately pricking their fingers on the thorns, making Roman apologize profusely. One elder woman had frowned down at the flower and declined it politely, offering Roman instead an encouraging smile and a sincere, “Be careful,” as she handed him a small bouquet of pink and red flowers with a green, bell-like leaved plant tucked between them from her cart. He didn’t recognize any of the flowers but smiled graciously nonetheless and bid her “Good day,” before heading home on Sirius.

As he walked to his room, Roman noticed Logan sitting in Thomas’s study as he passed by. Careful not to startle him, he knocked quietly on the open door causing Logan to look up quickly from his book.

“Aren’t you supposed to be resting?” Roman asked with a hint of amusement.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on a mission?” Logan shot back, an uncommon edge to his usual monotone voice.

“Already done, Specs.”

Logan eyed the clock that stood in the corner of the study, “You’ve been gone less than a day and you’ve already vanquished a beast no other knight dared to battle?”

“Did you expect any less?” Roman grinned as he leaned against the doorway.

“Exceptional work, Roman,” Logan nodded, his normal cold and constricted tone becoming present.

“Oh how you flatter me so.”

Roman felt a rush of satisfaction as a hint of a smile appeared on Logan from his theatrics and went to stand in front of his desk.

“What are you doing?”

“Reviewing the peace treaty Thomas and I constructed yesterday before it’s sent to the other kingdom.”

“What for?”

Logan blinked, “To stop the attacks and prevent a war?”

Roman wanted to roll his eyes but he looked genuinely confused at what he asked, “No, _why_ are you rereading the treaty? If both you and Thomas were involved in writing it then it must have been reread several times already.”

“One can’t be too cautious when lives are at risk,” Logan said, his eyes flickering down towards the parchment once more.

“I suppose not. But do try to rest sometime soon, you know Thomas can’t work well without you present.”

Roman started towards the door, but as a second thought, placed his satchel on the corner of the desk and dug through his bag until he found the rose. He presented it to Logan who took it carefully, examining the flower.

“Ah, what an aesthetic Rosideae,” Logan noticed Roman’s confused look and was quick to clarify, “a rose. Though the thorns are unusually long and sharp… where did you find this?”

 _‘Don’t tell him!’_ the voice from earlier that morning returned, it’s volume louder than before, making Roman grit his teeth in pain before forcing himself to smile lightheartedly.

“I found it this morning,” he managed to say, a twinge of guilt from the lie curling through him.

“In the enchanted forest?” Logan asked.

Roman shook his head, a quick prickle of fear running through him, “Just outside it actually.”

 _‘He’s going to find out what I did,’_ Roman thought, internally kicking himself for giving Logan the flower.

“How peculiar, without water, cut roses remain in tact for four hours at most before wilting. It’s nearly dusk yet it appears freshly picked. Perhaps a new evolutionary adaptation?”

“Perhaps,” Roman nodded, starting to close his bag when Logan stopped him.

“Where’d you get those?”

Roman looked down at the bouquet he was handed earlier from the woman and pulled it out to place on the desk.

“A woman in town gave me this.”

Logan furrowed his brow at the flowers, “It carries an ominous message.”

“It does?”

Logan nodded, tapping the green stem of bell-like leaves, “Bells of Ireland for luck,” he moved to the red flowers, “azalea means to ‘Take care’,” he frowned harder as he gestured to the pale pink flowers and met Roman’s eyes, “and rhododendron… which means ‘Beware.’”

Logan’s eyes seemed to bore into Roman as he asked, “Where did you say you got this rose again?”

They both were quiet as Logan waited for him to say something. After a few minutes of silence, Roman shook his head and picked up the bouquet.

“Goodnight Logan.”

Logan didn’t protest as he left the study, and Roman pretended not to notice when he swept the rose off his desk and into the wastebasket.

…

A few weeks had passed and Logan hadn’t brought up their exchange since that night, something Roman was grateful for. No one else thought anything of the roses, and because of Logan’s need for independence, it was unlikely he had even mentioned their discussion to anyone. Still, Roman could feel Logan examining him when the others were distracted, as if waiting for Roman to suddenly announce what had happened during his quest. Of course, Roman hadn’t breathed a word about his meeting with Damien and continued distributing roses to the kind-hearted people of the kingdom. But as the weeks passed, he grew antsy as nothing changed and Damien hadn’t yet reappeared since their talk in the enchanted woods. The voice in his head continued to hiss accusations and vile comments whenever Thomas and Virgil were too close, but other than that had remained mostly quiet.

One night, Roman stood outside on his balcony, watching the stars as they twinkled brightly and took note of the constellations Logan had taught him, remembering the stories that Virgil had once read to him behind the constellations at his request.

“Nice night for stargazing,” someone hummed in his ear.

Roman jumped and turned to see Damien floating behind him, his usual devilish smirk flickering across his lips.

“Damien,” he nodded in greeting, “I’ve been expecting your return.”

Damien chuckled quietly, “Still eagerly awaiting your own kingdom I see. Where is the rose I gave you?”

Roman went inside, grabbing the rose from his satchel and quickly returned to the balcony, handing it to him. Damien dropped to his feet without a sound and laid the flower flatly in his palm. With a wave of his hand, the rose’s stem began to twist and grow, wrapping around itself in a wide circle. Roses began to exude from the crown, Roman watching intently as it truly was a sight to see. The growing stopped as quickly as it began, a crown of roses now dangling from Damien’s grasp, the acid yellow of his gloves a sharp contrast to the vibrant red of the flowers. Damien adjusted his grip on the crown, now holding it in both hands delicately, and offered it to Roman.

“Every king needs a crown.”

Roman took the crown from him gingerly, bowing lightly to slide it on his head. As soon as he did, a sharp pain exploded behind his temple, reminiscent of the one he had felt directly before meeting Damien. Roman groaned and clutched his head, willing the pain away. The feeling suddenly seemed to spread from his head to the rest of his body, every part of him brimming with immense pain until it was unbearable. Roman fell to his knees and began clawing at his chest, desperate to ease some part of his agony. He was faintly aware of the sound of fabric ripping, tatters of his torn shirt and sash now laying limply beside him but was too discomforted to care. Thorns protruded from the crown, digging harshly into Roman’s skin, blood trickling down the sides of his face. Roman was vaguely aware to the sound of Damien’s laughter as he loomed over him.

“Why… why are you laughing?” he managed between heavy gasps.

The pain in his temples only grew worse, and as Damien spoke, Roman realized with horror that there was an echo to it in his head, the same voice that had been speaking to him for weeks. But now it wasn’t just a voice, Damien was trying to force his way in Roman’s head completely.

“You’re so foolish, Roman. You only thought about what you’d gain from this, not even stopping to wonder how little I’d be getting in return… Did you really think a powerful being such as myself could ever be satisfied with something so little?”

The throbbing his skull was excruciating now, Roman grit his teeth and took heavy breaths as he started to lose feeling in his body.

“But you said… all you wanted was-”

“What I said was true, I wanted someone worthy of ruling as king… and that’s exactly what I’m getting.”

“Why me?”

“Oh Roman,” Damien’s voice took on a mock-caring tone, “it didn’t have to be you in particular. But you’re a reckless, imprudent low-life whose dreams were a little too big for reality… the perfect prey for someone like me who needed an easy in to the throne.”

Roman didn’t have the strength to fight him off, his body feeling like lead, and Damien’s constant push into his mind wasn’t helpful. The pain violently increased tenfold, making him scream, until it suddenly stopped, and Roman found he couldn’t control himself anymore. Damien’s memories began to fill his mind, images upon images of the enchanter tricking and deceiving innocent civilians all over the world, promising each one their deepest hearts’ desires… and each one following his teachings blindly, unaware to the danger they had succumb to. Damien wasn’t lying when he said he had lived a long life, but the rest was lies. He couldn’t predict the future, and his illusions were just that; _illusions._ But he could read minds, hence the pain Roman had directly before they met; Damien was rifling through his mind, searching for his weakness.

Roman could feel himself standing up, an unfamiliar smile creeping across his face as he stood and made his way inside, his body unconsciously following Damien’s lead. Damien paused at the mirror, ignoring Roman’s demands to set him free and tilted Roman’s -now technically his- head to the side, examining his new appearance. The flowers had lost their cheery hue sometime earlier during the transformation, and had turned a dark black. No longer did it seem like a ring of roses were around Roman’s head, but now rather a crown of blood and thorns.

“I suppose I could have chosen a worse looking host,” Damien muttered, twisting his head to the side, giving his fingers an instinctive snap but to no reaction, making him frown, “one that had the capability to cast magic as well.”

“Enough. Leave me at once!” Roman yelled, his voice echoing in Damien’s mind.

Damien looked crossly at his reflection and opened his mouth to speak when a shriek from outside made him stop. Damien grinned to himself, Roman narrowing his eyes in disgust as his sick smile appeared on Roman’s face.

“Ah, the roses are already taking effect.”

“The roses?”

“Whoever was pricked by the rose’s thorns is under my control, and should anyone try to stop me from becoming king will have an entire army on their hands.”

Damien let out a sinister laugh as he turned away from mirror, screams and cries for help flowed from outside, and Roman desperately wanted to assist but to no avail. Damien was in control now, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

As Damien tied Roman’s sword to his side, Roman was able to catch one last fleeting look outside to where his sash lied on the balcony floor before it was swept up by the wind, never to be seen again.

…

Virgil was sitting with Logan inside his study as the two carried a light-hearted debate about their newest read. Patton sat nearby, watching the debate excitedly, making sure to integrate a pun any chance he could, much to Logan’s distaste. Screams were suddenly heard from outside, making them all snap to attention. Patton rushed to the window, the color draining from his face as he stared into the night. Virgil and Logan were quick to join his side, and both looked out with horror at the scene before them. From what they could see, the townspeople were attacking each other, no mercy in their assaults as they fought. Shops and houses were burning down, and the flames from their great fires revealed a mob of people headed towards the castle. Logan was the first to snap from his stupor and began to tug on their arms to pull them away from the window.

“We need to alert the guards. Now.”

The three of them ran from the study in search of the nearest station of guards, Virgil frantically calling out Thomas’s and Roman’s names as well as the three ran from room to room, but the castle was seemingly empty.

Virgil turned a corner and nearly ran into Patton and Logan as they suddenly froze in their tracks. He pushed past them to see Roman pointing a sword at Thomas’s chest with a sinister grin across his face, his eyes an unnatural sickly yellow. Two guards held Thomas in place as he struggled against their hold. A group of a dozen or so guards were scattered around the room haphazardly, looking dazed and didn’t even blink as Thomas demanded to be released.

Virgil stood, baffled by the scene. Roman seemed to sense their presence and turned, his smile only growing darker and more unlike himself. Virgil took a step back cautiously as those yellow eyes pierced into him, making fear trickle down his spine.

“Roman?” he managed out.

“It’s _King_ Damien,” he said, his eyes seeming to glow as he spoke.

Virgil felt anger grow in his chest at the intruder in Roman’s body, “What did you do to Roman?”

Damien ignored the question and turned to the still guards, “I have no use for these three. Dispose of them at once,” Ro- Damien said without care, and Virgil was then aware of the sound of Patton’s teeth chattering from fear.

The guards suddenly snapped to attention and formed a wall between Damien and the others, nearly concealing him and Thomas completely. Virgil turned to look back at the way he and the others had come, ready to make a quick escape, but only saw another row of guards blocking it.

“You two. Take him upstairs.” Roman ordered the guards who were holding Thomas and nodded at the staircase that led to the tall towers in the castle.

The guards pulled Thomas upstairs, Roman following quickly behind with another two guards trailing after him.

Virgil could feel his anxiety start to heighten as guards pulled their swords out of their sheaths and began to narrow in on them. He felt Patton stand beside and grab his hand nervously as Logan stood on his other side, no doubt looking for an escape.

“There’s a window approximately four feet from your right, Patton. If we-”

“What about Thomas and Roman? We need to save them!” Virgil whispered angrily.

“What we _need,_ Virgil, is to evacuate the castle’s premises and return later when we have a plan.”

“But-”

“We can’t rescue them if we can’t rescue ourselves, Virgil,” Patton cut in.

The three of them were slowly backing up as they whispered, now approaching the window with caution. Virgil eyed the thin pane of glass and the velvet curtains on either side of it with interest as he felt his flight-or-fight reflexes kicking in.

“Can you hold them off while I break the window?” Virgil whispered, squeezing Patton’s hand one last time before letting go.

“Yes,” Logan affirmed.

“Please be careful,” Patton whispered.

Virge lunged for the window and wrapped the curtain around his hand before repeatedly smashing his hand into the glass. Behind him, he could hear Patton and Logan grunting as they fought against the guards. After the fourth punch, the glass shattered completely and Virgil managed to scrape off the excess glass around the pane and he turned towards the others to inform them they could leave when it happened.

Patton was fighting a guard with a sword he had taken from another guard that he had previously knocked unconscious (Virgil had _no idea_ how that happened) when a second guard crept up behind him and swung his blade down towards his head. Virgil didn’t have time to scream or yell out a warning when suddenly Logan dove towards his side and pushed him out of the way. They landed on the floor near the broken window where Virgil stood, and Patton looked stunned as he looked up at Logan with wide eyes. Logan looked surprised himself, no doubt baffled by his own quick actions.

“Logan, I-”

“No time!” Virgil yelled, pulling them both off the floor and ushering them towards the window.

Patton jumped out the window, followed by Logan, and then Virgil who barely managed to avoid losing an arm to a ruthless guard. The three paused to check for injuries but miraculously there were none, even though it was from a third story window, and quickly darted off into the night. The mob from before was now lazily pushing against the castle gates, their expressions as vacant and dazed as the guards’ were before Damien gave them orders. Pitchforks, kitchen knives, torches, and even several black roses, which made Virgil’s eyebrow raise, were held in their grips, yet none of them seemed adamant on using them unlike the earlier assault in the village. It was easy to climb the gate and slip by the people without a struggle, and Virgil silently thanked whatever had caused them to act so savagely earlier had passed.

Back in the village, Virgil, Logan, and Patton hid in the shadows of an abandoned shop while they tried to think of a plan. Logan was mumbling out unfinished ideas while Patton picked at his nails nervously and tugged on his sleeves, looking for something to do with his hands. Virgil held the sword Patton stole from the guard earlier, tracing the edge of the blade absentmindedly as he struggled to control his breathing, unaware of Patton calling his name until he nudged him.

“What?”

“I said to remember to breathe, kiddo. Breathe in for four, hold for seven, breathe out for eight.”

Virgil ignored the nickname and focused on breathing with Patton. After a few minutes, he felt calm enough to speak.

“What happened to Roman?”

Logan and Patton were both silent.

Nervously, Virgil tried again, “Do you think we can fix this?”

More silence. It weighed heavily on Virgil, the quiet suffocating him as he felt panic well up inside him once more, causing his breath to become shaky and for tears to prick his eyes.

“Answer me, damn it!”

“Please remember to breathe, Virgil-”

“No! The villagers are under a spell, Roman’s been possessed by some demon, Thomas could be dying right now, and you want me to focus on breathing?!”

They all sat silently for a moment until they heard footsteps walking lazily nearby, no doubt attracted by Virgil’s yelling. A woman walked towards them, her eyes vacant like the others’ from earlier, and in her hand she clutched a black rose. Virgil watched as Logan studied the rose in her hand before prying it from her grip and inspecting it carefully. He whispered a quiet, “I wonder...” under his breath and snapped it in half.

Immediately, the woman regained her focus and stared in confusion at the three of them before muttering a confused apology before ducking out of the alley.

“What just happened?” Patton asked, eyes transfixed on where the woman once stood.

“Just as I suspected, the roses Roman brought back from his quest possess dark magic and were made for malevolent uses,” Logan explained as he held up the black blossom.

“Roman started handing these out a few weeks ago after he battled the gorgon. Do you think it has something to do with this?”

“Not necessarily. It’s unusual for gorgons to possess magic aside from their ability to turn the living into stone, so it must be from a sorcerer or enchantress.”

Virgil sat quietly, pieces of the puzzle slowly fitting together in his mind.

“Destroying a rose breaks one victim from the spell, so breaking the source should free them all, including Roman.”

“Damien was wearing a crown of roses,” Patton added.

“Break the crown and Roman will be set free,” Virgil whispered softly, a bright smile growing across his face.

He looked up to see Patton and Logan matching his smile and stood up with renewed vigor, his anxiety draining away to leave behind hope and determination.

“Gather the rest of the villagers, we’re going to need an army.”

…

About an hour later, Virgil stood with Logan and Patton in front of the remaining townspeople, trying to think of how to address the nervously chattering crowd. Luckily, it appeared as though most of the people were unharmed despite the fight that took place earlier that night. It was no secret that public speaking made him anxious, but he was determined to put it aside for the task at hand.

Trying to think of another way to stall, Virgil somberly played with the torn edge of Roman’s sash. He had found it hanging from a tree on the inner edge of the village and was quick to cut it free. Unsure of what to do with it at the time, he had wrapped it around his arm and continued searching for townspeople.

Virgil looked up towards the tower of Thomas’s castle and saw Damien standing there smugly, sword in hand, his black cape fluttering in the breeze, and yellow eyes piercing directly into Virgil’s chocolate colored ones. Irritation and anger grew in Virgil and he finally found the words to address the crowd.

“I know all of you have lost someone because of the spell, but now is not the time to let fear and sorrow take over you. The spell can be undone and everyone can be saved.” The crowd began to quiet down and exchange hopeful looks, only making Virgil more determined, “The only way to defeat King Damien is to break his crown of roses, that’s what’s controlling everyone. If we break the crown, we break the spell.”

The crowd began to excitedly whisper at his words, and Virgil glanced over at Logan and Patton who had been quiet throughout his speech. Patton’s eyes shone with pride and Logan was smiling faintly and nodded at him to continue.

“Now it’s time to rise up or it’s time to stand down, and the answer is easy to see,” Virgil looked down at Roman’s sash he still clutched tightly in his grip and draped it around his shoulders as a makeshift scarf and held up his sword triumphantly. “And I swear by the sword, if you’re in get on board. Are you ready?”

Virgil lifted his hand out in front of Patton and Logan.

Patton placed his hand down on top of Virgil’s, “I’m ready.”

Logan soon followed, “I’m ready.”

“We’re ready!” the crowd cheered behind them enthusiastically, throwing their fists into their air like the battle had already been won.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Virgil whispered, staring back at the castle.

Soon after that, the group began their march up to the castle, only stopping to grab any kind of weapons from the deserted village before continuing on their way. Virgil wished for a distraction as he continued staring up at the castle, trying to avoid imagining the ‘what-if’s of the plan. Behind him, he could hear Logan pull Patton aside and whisper to him quietly.

“Are you quite sure we can do this?”

“Together we will guarantee.”

As nervous as he was, it relieved Virgil a little to hear he wasn’t the only one feeling anxious about what was about to happen. There were various ways this day could end, and each ending Virgil thought of was worse than the last. He tried to steer away from those thoughts, instead focusing on steadying his breathing, remembering the four-seven-eight count Roman taught him once. He smiled fondly at the memory, a gentle flutter filling his chest as it always did when he thought about the brunette, and exhaled a little roughly before turning to the others, his face determined and voice firm.

“We’re almost there. Should anyone choose to back out, now is the time.”

The crowd was silent as Virgil’s gaze flickered over every face, looking for any trace of doubt or uncertainty. Instead, all he saw were expressions of undaunting bravery. A bit of pride swelled up inside him as he recognized quite a few of the faces, some of the kindest and shyest people he knew were there, fighting beside him in an attempt to do what was right. He pushed down the feeling, resolving to express his emotions after the battle was over, and quickly turned his attention back to the castle.

“If the victims of the spell try to attack you, avoid harming them at any cost. They’re not in their right mind and can be set free by breaking their rose they’re carrying. Our mission is to infiltrate the castle and destroy Roman’s crown. If we succeed, everyone is set free.”

Sounds of affirmation came from behind him, making Virgil nod to himself. The gates of the castle came into view and Virgil gripped Roman’s sash tightly. The spellbound townspeople were now around the gate, some inside and some outside. Their eyes were blank and they weren’t moving, and Virgil could hear a few choked sobs from behind him.

Virgil pushed past a few of them and climbed the gate. Once he landed on the other side, he motioned for the others to follow. After a few more people landed inside, Virgil grew restless at the slow pace, the lack of action allowing his mind to wonder what could be taking place inside the castle, and nervously began to tug on Roman’s sash before he quickly turned to the townspeople who had just climbed the gate.

“Go to the guard tower and open the gate,” he instructed two men.

They nodded, saluting to Virgil and headed to the guard tower a couple meters away.

“You’re doing well as leader, maybe you should do it more often,” Patton said as he joined his side.

Virgil just shook his head, “Absolutely not, this is incredibly nerve-wracking.”

Patton laughed but immediately stopped when the dazed townspeople quickly snapped to attention and turned their hard stares to their army.

“Oh no,” Patton barely managed out before they began to attack.

Virgil dodged several weapons swinging at him, managing to cut a few roses as he did. Patton and Logan did the same, a pile of mangled roses pooling at their feet. Behind them, the gate opened and more soldiers made their way inside. By now, most of the spellbound people were released and they looked confused before quickly running away from the fight, though quite a few picked up a weapon and joined Virgil’s side. Damien’s army was easily outnumbered now and Virgil had faith that his side could handle it.

“Come on!” Virgil motioned to the castle.

A large group followed him inside the castle, some staying behind to help their loved ones back to their feet or to finish breaking spells. Inside, more guards were waiting for them, and Virgil was proud to see his side fighting valiantly. The majority of the guards didn’t carry any roses, so Virgil settled for knocking them unconscious. The others quickly followed his example, and slowly began to knock them out one by one.

Virgil looked over to see a guard manage to knock Patton’s sword out of his hand and nearly stabbed him in the chest when Logan appeared with his sword and neatly blocked his blade. He kicked the man away and brought the hilt of his sword down on the guard’s head, knocking him out. Logan picked up Patton’s sword and passed it back to him.

“How many times are you going to save my life?” Patton asked, stepping close to Logan.

“As many as it takes,” he replied, leaning down and kissing Patton.

“Seriously, guys! We’re kind of in the middle of something here!” Virgil yelled, gesturing to the battle around them as he kicked away another guard.

The two broke apart quickly, their faces red.

“Sorry.”

“Apologies.”

The two quickly rejoined the fight until only a few guards remained and a man stopped them.

“We can handle it from here, you go ahead.”

Virgil reluctantly nodded and gestured for Logan and Patton to follow. They made it to the room with the staircase Roman had disappeared through hours earlier to see half a dozen guards waiting patiently.

Patton leaned towards Virgil and whispered with a smile, “Go defeat Damien, he’s been a _thorn_ in our side for too long.”

At once, he and Logan quickly jumped into battle and signaled for Virgil to continue the path. He nodded hesitantly, slipping by the guards carefully, and apprehensively began his ascent.

Once at the top of the tower, Virgil cracked open the door slowly to find Damien pacing as Thomas kneeled on the floor with his back facing the wall, his wrists and ankles bound together by a plentiful amount of rope. Thomas’s eyes flickered towards him instantaneously, and Virgil pressed a finger to his lips to silence him. He gave a slight nod in understanding, not wanting to attract Damien’s attention.

Virgil took the time to check out the surroundings of the room to help think of a plan. There were two windows on either side of the tower, and the balcony that Damien stood on earlier. The only exit was through the door he stood behind, and Virgil honestly couldn’t tell if that made him more relieved or not. The guards that followed Damien up the stairs previously had strangely disappeared, most likely down with the others as if he was certain no one would make it this far.

Damien stopped pacing and focused his gaze out one of the windows.

“Any moment now, your highness.”

Thomas stilled and his eyes widened fearfully. Virgil could see him visibly start to shake in his place.

“Believe me I know, I’ve sunk pretty low, but whatever I’ve done you’ve deserved.”

“Damien-”

“Quiet!”

Damien broke his gaze from the window and began pacing furiously once more. Anger was rolling off him in waves and he unsheathed his sword and gripped it tightly. His eyes were hooded, dark, and Virgil could tell he was getting ready to finish Thomas off soon.

“I’m the bad guy that’s fine, it’s no fault of mine. And some justice at last will be served.”

“Please listen-”

“Now it’s time to step up or it’s time to back down, and there’s only one answer for me. And I’ll stand up and fight ‘cause I know that I’m right.”

Virgil watched as Damien glanced down at his sword and a sick grin grew on his face, “And I’m ready as I’ll ever be,” he whispered and his eyes glowed yellow.

He brought the sword down towards Thomas’s head, but before he could make the impact, Virgil jumped in front of the blade and blocked it with his own sword just in time. They fought for a minute, swords clanging loudly, until Damien produced a small dagger. Virgil kicked him away and knocked it out of his hand, the dagger clattering against the stone floor loudly behind him. He barely managed to dodge the next swing of Damien’s sword and quickly rolled out of the way.

“You’re a poor fighter.”

“Well there _is_ a reason I’m a librarian instead of a knight,” Virgil said flatly.

He overshot his next attack, and with a swift kick from Damien, landed through the balcony doors and onto the marble terrace. Virgil groaned and clutched his bruised side before scrambling for his sword which had fallen next to him. Before he could, Damien kicked it off the balcony and held the sword to Virgil’s throat.

“Any final requests?” he grinned wickedly.

Virgil’s eyes darted around as he looked for an escape and smiled a little in relief as he noticed the approaching figures.

“Just one. Look behind you.”

Confused, Damien shot a quick glance behind him, giving Virgil enough time to knock the sword out of his hand and for Thomas to punch him hard across his jaw. Damien staggered back, Virgil choosing that precise moment to duck out of the way and trip him. Damien fell, and within a moment, was pinned to the ground by Logan. Patton appeared a second later, holding the rope Thomas was tied up with previously and tossed an end to Virgil.

“Hope you’re _knot_ too busy to help me out here,” Patton said.

Virgil ignored the pun as he and Patton tied the rope around Damien tightly as Thomas disappeared from the balcony to retrieve an already-freed guard.

Damien struggled against his bindings, “Release me at once!”

Ignoring his protests, Virgil reached forward and tugged at the crown, making Damien groan as the thorns dug through his scalp. He pried it off his head and began to twist the crown, the roses snapping loudly as they broke.

“Wait a minute! Leave me be and I’ll grant you your greatest heart’s desire. Anything you could possibly dream of I can make happen,” Damien pleaded.

Virgil scoffed as he broke another stem, “That’s a lie.”

Damien winced as it broke, “Not a lie. Anything you wish, I will make come true.”

“Is this what Roman wanted? To be held captive in his own mind as you puppeteered his body?” Logan asked incredulously.

“He _wanted_ to rule a kingdom- he wanted to be king. He wanted everything that I granted him and more-”

“Stop it,” Virgil growled through clenched teeth. His head began to throb as Damien’s words echoed through his head. Even so, Damien pressed on.

“-and how much do you really know about Roman anyway? About his childhood? His dreams? If Roman was truly the man you believe him to be, then why accept my offer? By ignoring this you’re refusing to acknowledge the truth that maybe Roman wasn’t the noble little knight you all thought he was-”

“Stop it!” Virgil yelled as he broke the crown in two.

Damien screamed as thick black smoke poured from Roman’s mouth and took the form of a man next to Roman’s unconscious self. The man, Virgil presumed to be the _real_ Damien, stood shakily before falling to his knees, his breathing heavy and labored. Virgil watched, perplexed, as Damien raised a hand and a thin wisp of smoke appeared before getting blown away in the wind.

“You’re a fool,” Damien hissed, his eyes flashing angrily.

“You’re a liar,” Virgil shot back, his glare equally as dangerous.

“Am I?”

The question hung heavily between the two of them as they stared each other down. As Virgil’s gaze remained on Damien, his thoughts began to stray to what he said about Roman. Is it possible that Virgil really didn’t know anything about Roman afterall? He always assumed he knew the knight as well as the others did, but for Roman to wish for something to this extent that resulted in the fall of Thomas’s kingdom, how well did Virgil really know him?

Virgil’s thoughts were cut off by a low groan emitted from Roman as he began to stir. Patton quickly dropped to his knees before him and started untying the rope from around Roman, mumbling quietly to him. Even after being untied, Roman sat with a dazed expression, seemingly unable to comprehend anything around him. Virgil stood back as Logan moved forward to bind Damien’s wrists together while they waited for Thomas to return with the guards.

**-Roman-**

Roman felt throbbing in his head, the absence of Damien causing the fog around his head to disperse steadily and allowed him to slowly take in his surroundings. He was first aware of Patton’s soft whispers as he knelt before him and slowly stroked the pad of his thumb across the back of Roman’s hand. Roman blinked lazily as he felt a hand cautiously placed on his shoulder and managed to tilt his head to look at the source to see Logan gazing at him, a faint look of concern etched across his usually stoic exterior. Roman smiled tiredly at him and was able to recognize Virgil standing a few feet away, but couldn’t manage to catch Virgil’s fleeting eyes. With a start, Roman realized Virgil was wearing his sash around his neck, making him heat slightly and his face to break out in a wide grin.

“Virgil-”

“You’re an idiot,” Virgil snapped.

Roman fell silent, shocked, his smile dropping as Logan and Patton exchanged looks. Beside him he could hear Damien chuckle faintly.

“Virgil-” Patton tried gently.

“No!” Virgil whipped around furiously, and Roman felt himself unconsciously shrink away, “You can’t pretend this is okay, Patton. None of this is! Thomas almost died! _Roman_ could’ve died! And if you want to pretend nothing happened, fine. But I can’t forget this.”

Patton was silent, his hand halting its movement mid-circle against Roman’s own to squeeze his hand tightly. Roman returned the gesture as the four of them stood quietly, impatiently awaiting Thomas’s return.

Heavy footsteps were heard outside the balcony and Thomas approached a moment later, two guards following behind him. Roman noticed Virgil flinch upon the sight of the guards and longed to reach forward to console the younger man but knew his presence wasn’t welcomed at the moment.

“Take him to the dungeons, he’ll spend the rest of his days rotting in prison,” Thomas nodded at Damien.

The guards saluted and grabbed Damien, hauling him off his feet and pulling him out of sight. Damien swore vituperatively under his breath to the guards while Patton, Logan, Virgil, and Thomas all noticeably relaxed as he was taken away.

“A sorceress in a nearby village has been hired to craft anti-magic chains for Damien. By the time he regains his strength, the cuffs will be completed and he won’t be able to cast a single spell,” Thomas reassured the four of them.

“Good,” Virgil nodded, “and if that’s all, I’ll be on my way.”

He began to leave and Roman quickly scrambled to his feet, his exhausted muscles crying in protest as he stood behind him.

“Virgil…”

Virgil turned to give Roman a searching look, one that was filled with terrible pain and confusion. Tears were forming at the edges of his eyes, flooding Roman with guilt. The look Virgil gave him seemed to plead for Roman to say something- anything. Any sort of explanation for the events that had occurred mere hours before. But for the first time in his life, Roman didn’t have anything to say. Virgil’s eyes lingered on him, waiting expectantly. After a pause, his gaze flickered to the ground as Virgil shook his head before he turned and left.

Roman sighed quietly at his retreating figure and turned to stare out at the damaged villages all around the kingdom, feeling his guilt worsen as he noticed each burned building and broken-into shop. Patton stood by his side, and squeezed his shoulder carefully after a moment.

“I wish I had a good joke for right now, but I’m _a frayed knot_ ,” Patton said as he held up one end of the frayed rope, making Roman crack a small smile.

Beside him, Logan let out an irritated huff.

“Patton, I am at the end of my rope with your puns!” Logan hissed, then blinked, dumbfounded, “Wait I didn’t mean to-”

Within a second, Patton squealed and launched himself at his boyfriend and began planting kisses all over his face.

“I… love you… so… much!” he said between kisses.

Roman watched as Thomas chuckled as Logan’s face grew red and he muttered a quiet, “I have a deep regard for you as well,” making Patton laugh and kiss him once more.

He smiled a little at the three of them, the guilt increasing as he desperately wished it was the four of them, and cursed himself once more for how foolish he’d been. Roman’s gaze lingered to the balcony doors where Virgil had gone and couldn’t help but wonder if it’d ever be the four of them again.

…

About a month had passed since the disaster with Damien, and Roman was still working on gaining back the kingdom’s trust. He made sure to pitch in as much as he could during the cleanup and reconstruction of the villages, and helped in any way he could. The townspeople seemed nervous at first when he offered his assistance, but after a few weeks the wary glances he received had significantly diminished, and Roman grew closer to the people than he was before.

Roman found it necessary to apologize to his friends as well, as they had dealt with the majority of the battle. Patton had smiled and told him not to worry before offering him his favorite pastry. Even though he kept apologizing and insisted he do something for Patton to make up for what he did, Patton refused kindly and insisted that if Roman came to him the next time he was struggling, that would be enough.

He apologized to Logan next, his gaze staying flat on the floor when he did, Logan’s scrutinizing stare making him too nervous to keep eye contact. At the end, Logan rose from his chair and walked directly in front of him. For a moment, Roman tensed, expecting to get yelled or even hit but instead was pleasantly surprised when Logan wrapped his arms around him in an awkward hug. Knowing that physical contact from him was a rarity, Roman hugged him back tightly. They didn’t speak, not even when Logan released him and nodded, sitting back down at his desk and continuing to write. Roman slipped out the door a moment later, but made sure to return later that night to place a jar of Crofter’s jam on his desk while Logan was out.

Thomas’s apology took a while, not that Roman minded. He was stalling to avoid apologizing to Virgil, too fearful to see the younger male’s face as he looked at Roman, worried that all he’d see was disgust. What Thomas wanted from Roman was simply an explanation. He was still unsure of how Damien managed to take over his kingdom and how Roman came into play. It wasn’t a secret that Roman was secretive about his past, but Thomas hadn’t asked for that story, he merely wished to understand. Even so, Roman found himself telling everything about his past to Thomas as he sat patiently and listened. He was quiet until the end, and by then, several hours had passed. At the end, Roman waited for the questions he was sure to come, but was instead pulled into a hug as Thomas whispered, “Thank you for trusting me.”

Virgil was difficult to find, the younger male always managing to disappear before Roman could apologize. After finally cornering Virgil as he was leaving the market, Roman was able to convince him to give him a chance to explain. They agreed to talk in the Twisted Oak Library, and the two walked silently side by side as they made their way there.

They sat down across from each other in the library, Roman nervously drumming his fingers against his thigh as Virgil stared at him unblinkingly. They both remained silent, Roman unsure how to begin.

Virgil sighed frustratedly, “You said you wanted to talk, Roman, so start talking.”

Roman licked his lips, unsurely, and quietly began.

“I’m sorry for what happened with Damien. I didn’t mean for any of it to happen.”

“What did you expect _would_ happen then?” Virgil asked harshly.

Roman felt a bit of hurt from Virgil’s tone but brushed it aside. After everything Roman had put him through, he had every right to be angry.

“That I would be king,” Roman admitted shamefully.

Virgil’s face changed from one of barely contained anger to pure outrage.

“So you were willing to kill Thomas-”

“I was not _willing_ to do anything. Damien possessed me so he could become king himself. He promised me a kingdom of my very own, and if I knew what his true intentions were, I never would accepted his deal.”

By this point, Roman stood out of his chair, looking down at Virgil. Virgil quickly stood as well, the chairs’ close proximity making both of them nearly touch as they continued arguing.

“And why _did_ you accept his deal? Were you unhappy?”

“No-”

“Displeased?”

“No, but-”

“Were we not enough?”

“What?”

The question caught Roman off guard as he took note of the tears pooling in Virgil’s eyes and the shaking in his stance.

“Were we not enough for you, Roman?” Tears fell down his face as his voice quieted.

“I… I don’t understand.”

“You made a deal with Damien to become king- to rule a separate kingdom. If things had gone the way you wanted, you’d be far away from us, living a different life. It seems like you weren’t satisfied with what you had… you weren’t satisfied with us… with me.”

The last part was barely a whisper but Roman heard it clearly, and wrapped Virgil in a tight hug. Virgil clung to him, silently crying in the crook of Roman’s neck.

“I’m sorry, Virgil. I’m so sorry,” Roman kept muttering as he stroked Virgil’s hair softly.

Several minutes passed until Roman could feel Virgil shifting in his arms and noted the other had stopped crying.

“You and the others are always going to be enough for me, Virgil. But when I heard Damien could make my dream become a reality I accepted without thinking it through.”

“You could’ve died.”

“You could’ve too.”

Virgil sighed, “Ever since it happened I feel like I barely know you.”

“I know, and I want to fix that.”

Virgil shifted to pull away from Roman to look at him, “I want that too.”

Their arms were still wrapped tightly around the other, and Roman was now aware of their extremely close proximity. Their faces were mere inches apart and Roman was wondering what it’d be like to kiss him when Virgil leaned up and closed the distance for him.

The kiss was short and sweet, Virgil pulling back too fast for Roman to respond or even comprehend what happened. He looked down and began picking at his nails, quickly worded apologies tumbling from his lips as he tried to move away from Roman. Roman held onto Virgil stubbornly as he, for the second time that evening, struggled to find the right thing to say.

“Virgil…”

Virgil fell silent immediately, his eyes cautiously flickering up to meet Roman’s. The scene felt reminiscent of the night from nearly a month ago; a searching look, a silent plea, and an unanswered question. And just like that night, Virgil waited for him to say something, and this time, Roman did.

“I love you.”

Virgil smiled as more tears fell from his eyes, “I love you too.”

After that, little by little, they got to know each other.

…

The following week, Roman found himself seated at the table in the dining hall with his friends. Logan and Patton sat across from him whispering quietly as Patton squeezed his arm happily as he said something that made Logan flush slightly. Beside Roman sat Virgil, Thomas sitting on Virgil’s other side as the two conversed. Sometimes he still felt a small bit of jealousy when they were too close, but after a talk between all five of them about Damien and his illusions, Thomas and Virgil reassured Roman he had nothing to worry about between shared fits of uncontrollable laughter, making his jealous feelings quell considerably. Logan hadn’t seemed bothered by Damien’s prediction of he and Patton getting together becoming true, reasoning that since he witnessed Roman’s memories he had merely predicted the inevitable. Virgil was flustered when Roman admitted one of the illusions were of he and Virgil getting together and had been furious when Damien suggested he wouldn’t love Roman if he wasn’t royalty. A fact that Virgil was quick to prove wrong as he held Roman tightly and kissed every part of his face, muttering how much he loved him.

Dinner was served a few minutes later, the servers bowing politely to Thomas out of habit (even though he continuously insists it isn’t necessary) and a few smiling kindly to Roman, recognizing him from the kingdom reconstruction he still assists with. As they ate, Roman was quiet as he listened to the others talk. There was a witty statement from Logan, a snarky comment from Virgil, a quick pun from Patton that left Logan groaning, and Thomas’s poorly concealed laughter at his reaction. Everything felt the same as it’d been before Damien’s attack on the kingdom, but as Roman looked down to his hand that was intertwined with Virgil’s, he knew it wasn’t.

Roman felt grateful for these people in his life who, despite his grave mistake, were happy and keen to have him remain in their lives. He could’ve lost everything to Damien, all for a lost dream he possessed when he was a child. True, Damien had promised to give him everything he had ever wanted, but Roman should’ve realized that everything he’s ever wanted was right here. He lived in kingdom where he was respected and well-liked, he had four close friends that he could share everything with, and best of all, he had a home filled with love and family. And when Roman thinks back on it, he never wanted a kingdom, he wanted to belong. And because of the others, now he was able to.

**Author's Note:**

> YouTube link to thepastelpeach’s AU:  
> https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=wNqneoesKvw
> 
> Come screech at me on tumblr: raspbirrypancakes
> 
> A gorgon is a creature with snakes for hair and can turn living creatures into stone by looking into their eyes (basically Medusa)
> 
> Damien’s last name (Inganno) translates to “deceit” in Italian
> 
> Sometimes instead of dialogue I just directly used the song lyrics
> 
> For the slight flower au:  
> Lobelia: malevolence  
> Hydrangea: heartlessness  
> Thorn-Apple: disguise  
> Rhododendron: beware  
> Bells of Ireland: luck  
> Azalea: take care
> 
> Slight references to:  
> Sirius Black (HP)  
> Voltron  
> Mr. Peabody & Sherman  
> Hamilton  
> That one PewDiePie fanfic I read over a year ago that no one’s probably ever heard of
> 
> ...Can you tell this was my first Sanders Sides fanfic? :D


End file.
